


An Eerie Sight

by villainsarebetter (darkling59)



Series: Monster Month [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Creature Fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-04-28 10:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5087779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkling59/pseuds/villainsarebetter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Creature of the Black Lagoon AU) </p>
<p>Rumpelstiltskin is a strange aquatic creature living a lonely existence on an isolated island and Belle, having been dragged to the middle of nowhere by her boyfriend looking for a hunting prize, is a young woman who catches his eye while swimming in his territory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Last week, on tumblr, I mentioned that I was planning a little event and asked for monster-based prompts, and I am finally ready to go!
> 
> The premise is that I’m going to post one Rumbelle creature!fic per day until Halloween (all of them in the 'Monster Month' series, and tagged as such on tumblr). And hopefully, on Halloween, I’ll be in a good position to do something special with the ficlets and prompts I didn’t manage to use.
> 
> Tomorrow: Drider Belle

For as long as the Creature could remember, he had been alone. Cutting through the murky water of his island’s lagoon with his webbed hands and feet, blending into the lush tropical vegetation with his mottled green scales. Even the golden glint on his skin simulated the sun’s reflection, allowing him to meld more easily with his surroundings. Every now and then he’d encounter a crocodile or shark, but his sharp fangs and claws and superior intelligence made him the victor in all fights.

The only injury that had left a mark- massive scars that disfigured his right leg, twisting it in a way that would have made him crippled, had he been a land creature - happened before he could remember; a time he could not remember beyond a fuzzy sense of dissociation and nausea, an occasional burst of coldness or pain…and a burning, overwhelming ANGER.

He didn’t dwell on that much.

He led an idyllic existence, in his isolation. There was plenty of food in the waters of his island territory, he was strong enough to easily maintain his position of apex predator, he had a cozy nest to return to when the weather became rough, and there was nothing to disturb his peace.

But…sometimes, just sometimes, he found himself sitting on the beach or at the bottom of the lagoon, staring off into the distance with blank eyes and wondering what it would be like if there _was_ someone there with him? What if there was someone like him, who he could hunt and play and swim with? Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to share his cozy nest with another, to curl up around a warm, inviting body and know he was not alone.

He didn’t know where those thoughts came from, but he indulged them with the wistful resignation of one who knew they would never come true. There was no one out there for him. The crocodiles seemed to be his closest relations, with their green scales and sharp teeth, but they were not of his kind.

Nothing was.

* * *

  
When the boat appeared off the coast of his island, the Creature eyed it with fascination. He knew about boats, though he did not know how he knew. There were skeletons of such things near his nest, eroded to almost nothing through long years of abandonment.

But this one…this one was _new_ , brightly painted and chugging cheerfully through the water, approaching his island at a fast clip. And there were many small figures on its deck making loud noises and running about in apparent agitation.

Burning with curiosity, the Creature slipped into the waters of his lagoon, swimming towards the bay closest to the boat, where he was sure it would make land. He didn’t know what the creatures were or what the boat was doing there, but he wanted to find out.

* * *

The next day, he found himself hiding away in the long grasses at the bottom of the bay, watching with wide golden eyes as a slim figure cut the waters over his head. He was completely mesmerized.

He’d watched the creatures make land the night before, standing motionless in the darkness behind the trees as they anchored off shore and set up tents and a campfire. A strange fit of shyness and a healthy wariness of fire had kept him at bay, but he still saw them, all seven men and women. Four men and three women, though two of the men seemed to be the alphas of the group, doing most of the talking and referring to each other loudly as 'captain’ and 'lieutenant’.

He instantly disliked them.

The other two men seemed more interested in whatever was inside the tents, occasionally emerging with beeping and buzzing boxes, and two of the women seemed to land somewhere in the middle of the social hierarchy. The one with short black hair held a long metal stick that could only be a weapon and watched the waters of the bay with keen, wary eyes while the other, with long red hair, splashed in the shallows and constantly tried to entice her mate - the one called 'captain’ - to join her.

But the last woman followed none of them. He never got a good look at her, beyond noting curly brown hair, but she was more interested in her items - _books_ , that strange source of knowledge-that-wasn’t-memories insisted from the back of his mind - than in her companions.

At least, she had until this morning when the entire group had gotten back in their boat and set out to map the bay and the various rivers that fed into it from the island. They were well underway when the red-haired female enticed the book-lover into the water to play.

The Creature, shadowing them from below as a shadow in the reeds and sea grass, got his first glimpse of her up close and could only stop and stare, hunching down and catching his webbed claws in the loose silt of the bay floor.

She was _gorgeous_.

The sun illuminated her from above, surrounding her water-borne body in a wispy golden halo, slightly green from a reflection on the water. All she wore was a modest one-piece swimsuit in solid light blue, but the skin he could see was pale and flawless, her hair spread out around her head, suspended in the water just like his when he chose to float, and he knew her face could only be as beautiful as the rest of her, even if he couldn’t see it in detail. Her hands and feet were not webbed, nor scaled, and she had no gills or claws, but she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

Abandoning his pursuit of the boat, he instead slunk along beneath her, remaining hidden in the vegetation and watching as she frolicked with the red-haired female until the captain called out to his mate, and the last female was left alone in the water. She seemed to have no fear about being alone, even without claws and fangs to protect herself, and she drifted further and further afield, sometimes swimming and sometimes just floating at the surface, appreciating the warm sun on her face and the cool water beneath.

However, her apparent ignorance of danger did not mean there was no danger.

  
The Creature watching from below saw the crocodile, easily twice his length and more than double his weight, slide into the water with nary a splash, reptilian gaze fixed on the unknowing woman. It cut stealthily through the water while her head was above the surface.

Had he been alone, the Creature would not have hesitated to swim away from the creature or fight - he was faster, smarter, and more lethal provided he avoided the crocodile’s jaws, but he was loathe to abandon the woman. Her companions were far afield, the boat having gone a different direction while she wasn’t paying attention, so there would be no rescue from that direction. He glanced between the threat and the woman in blue, and made his decision.

* * *

Belle was not a happy camper. She’d come on this trip because it was a chance to see the world, a chance to travel as she never had before. When he’d proposed the vacation, Gaston promised she would get the chance to take in the local culture, to see museums and libraries as soon as they reached their goal. What he’d failed to mention was that their 'goal’ was a tiny, barely known island off the coast of South America and that they’d only be spending a day, tops, in the city on the mainland to chart and fuel a boat. She should have known something was wrong when he’d agreed so easily; Gaston HATED going to libraries with her.

Still, it wasn’t so bad. As annoyed as she was, the deserted island was beautiful and she had plenty of time to read. Ariel was good company, though she wasn’t sure about Gaston’s old friend Eric (the captain of their small boat) and she _really_ wasn’t sure about Killian and Dr. Zoso - those two gave her the creeps. Mulan rounded out their small crew, and she seemed nice, but was too withdrawn and wary for Belle to get a good read on her.

Swimming was a nice break from reading and from the boat. It was too small to really avoid each other and Gaston simply could not seem to comprehend that she was still angry at him, and if he called her 'Babe’ one more time she was going to throw one of her heaviest books at her head. She’d mourn any damage it took more than the bump on Gaston’s head.

To be honest, it was that, more than Ariel’s pleas for companionship that drew her into the water and far from her companions even when Ariel returned to the deck. Oh, she knew they wouldn’t abandon her, but some time alone was just what the doctor ordered and she, consummate city girl that she was, saw nothing wrong with snatching some alone time on the wild little island, treading water with her eyes closed and face turned towards the sun.

At least, not until something grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her under the water.

On instinct, she tried to scream, but water rushed in to her mouth and abruptly she was choking. Air gone, she lashed out with blind, wild strikes, trying to return to the surface and kick away her attacker at the same time. Both were futile and even as her lungs began to burn, she knew she had to focus on whatever was holding her back.

Just as she realized, it yanked again and she was pulled down a good five feet. Before she could panic, something _whooshed_ by her head, nearly yanking her along in its slip stream and smacking the side of her cheek, leaving her reeling. There was an odd 'clop’ of displaced water somewhere close, and it took her mere seconds to realize it was the thing’s _mouth snapping shut_.

The _thing_ was a crocodile. The biggest she’d ever seen, over fifteen feet long. And it was glaring at her with hunger in its eyes.

Even the burning in her lungs paled as she realized the fate she’d just escaped - the one still staring her in the face and preparing to make another attack.

Then the grip on her ankle yanked again and this time, instead of going down with her, it moved to her hip, a vice-like grip holding her in place, then yanking her down until she was amongst the reeds at the very bottom of the lagoon.

By now, she wasn’t struggling. The shock and lack of oxygen were causing her lungs and muscles to burn. She could comprehend what was happening, but only barely.

The grip on her hip became an arm around her waist as a firm body attached itself to her back, and the other arm of her…attacker? Savior?… lashed out at the crocodile, ramming it hard in the nose when it came for her, driving it away one more. Then she was hidden in the long green grasses of the bottom of the shallow bay, their wavering tendrils stretching a good two feet over her head.

She simply stared at them, and at the fuzziness of the picture presented. Her body was shutting down without oxygen, and distantly she realized she was going to die here, drown and be eaten by the crocodiles. The animal responsible for her misfortune circled furiously overhead, looking for the prey that had vanished before its very eyes but somehow unable to find her.

Then, the hand that had attacked the crocodile was on the side of her neck, gently turning her head, and there were lips sealed over her mouth, gently pushing her mouth open. Had she comprehended what was going on, she would have been shocked and struggled, but as it was she remained limp.  
Then, instead of kissing her, the stranger _exhaled_ into her mouth, and oxygen flooded her lungs.

She came back to life with a shocked splutter, trying to push away, but when she looked back to the surface, the crocodile swam back into view and she froze, huddling down in the vegetation with her rescuer. She tried to pull away, to turn to see…it? him?, but he did not release her, keeping one arm anchored around her waist like a vice and the other on the side of her neck.

Struggling was out of the question; whoever - whatever - he was, he had saved her from the crocodile and seemed content to continue doing so, but she still tried to take stock of everything she could. The arm around her waist was rough in texture, and there were five sharp points digging into her swimsuit where his hand rested – claws, no doubt - and the hand on her neck was softer on the pads of his fingers and palm, but just as rough on the edges and what little of his arm brushed the bare skin of her shoulder. His body, pressed full length against her back, seemed human enough, if rather smaller and more compact than most men she knew, but there was an odd sort of current against her neck, a disturbance in the water that moved in time with the steady rise and fall of his chest. Because, based on that movement, he also seemed to be breathing underwater.

It all added up to one undeniable conclusion: he was not human.

…Which probably should have been obvious, but now she really had a chance to comprehend it. She swallowed harshly and almost breathed in water. Before she could panic, the hand on her neck gently tilted her head again and his mouth was sealed over hers. Having learned from last time, she opened her mouth willingly and he fed her more life-saving oxygen.

This close and from such an odd angle, she couldn’t see much of him other than a mess of curly brown hair floating around his face, the occasional glint of green and gold scales, and three waving gills on the side of his neck, the source of her oxygen and his breathing underwater.

So. Not human.

But also friendly.

This time, he did not move away and she did not push him off, both of them content to share oxygen. As the minutes ticked away, the shadow of the persistent crocodile remaining overhead, Belle had to keep reminding herself that he was NOT actually kissing her. To her embarrassment, her natural reaction was to kiss back when she felt his lips, especially since his grip was so careful. With those claws, he could do her a lot of damage even on accident, but instead he was as gentle as could be.

More gentle than Gaston, her traitorous hind-brain pitched in. She blushed and told it to shut up.

Eventually, after what might have been five minutes or an hour (being underwater conveyed a sort of timelessness, what with the sunlight distorted and no sign of time passing), the crocodile left and her savior breathed out for the last time, pulling away with what seemed to be reluctance and loosening his grip.

For the first time, Belle was allowed to turn in his arms and look him in the face.

He was more human than she had expected. His face was shaped almost entirely like that of a human, a thin male with a sharp chin and slightly crooked nose, save for eyes that were too big, and pupils that were too wide and reptilian. His ears were webbed and she could just see the edges of gills concealed behind them, matching the sets on either side of his neck. Letting her gaze wander, she found that his entire body was covered by small green scales edged in gold, with the ones on his belly and neck a paler color, containing more yellowish coloration than the rest of him that she now knew from experience meant they were softer than the rest of his scales, and no scales at all on the palms of his hands. His hands and feet were webbed to the second knuckle, leaving just the finger and toe-tips (each one tipped by a nasty-looking black claw) free to function. The only thing he wore was a ragged pair of brown shorts that looked on the verge of falling to pieces in the water.

As she studied him, he stared right back, strange eyes as wide as they could go, every once in a while darting glances between her and the surface.

When her lungs began to burn again, she smiled apologetically and turned to swim away. To her surprise, he followed and hesitantly reached for her wrist. Amused and for some reason touched by the shyness from such an obviously dangerous creature, she let him grab her, and then nearly yelped in surprise as he suddenly began to _swim_.

He was far, far faster than any human she’d ever heard of, practically dragging her through the water after him, and he swam at an angle. With every stroke, he brought her closer to the surface, but after a few seconds his secondary target also became clear: the shore.

Within fifteen seconds, she found herself in the shallows, head breaking the surface even as she stumbled out of the waves to collapse on her hands and knees on the shore, gasping for breath. He’d kept her alive and she would forever be indebted to him for that, but it felt good to finally breath on her own.

She turned towards the waves, fully expecting him to be gone or only his head to be visible, but to her surprise, he was standing in the shallows, water lapping around his thighs, watching her with his head cocked. He showed no discomfort being out of his element, breathing the air as easily as he had water. His scales looked lighter in the direct sunlight, his face more human, and his hair hung in limp strands around his face.

Belle smiled at him tentatively. “Thank you.” She coughed, climbing to her feet. “You saved my life.”

When she took a step towards him, he retreated, an almost comical look of shock crossing his features. He opened his mouth as if to answer, but all that came out was a strangled growling sound. He tried once more before giving up and diving back under the water, leaving her alone on the beach.

Belle let out a shuddering sigh and sat on the sand, curling her arms around her legs. The reality of what she’d escaped was still sinking in, but she had caught a glimpse of the camp through the trees and knew her companions would be searching for her soon, if they weren’t already.

Once her legs stopped feeling like water, and her trembles of shock died down, she stood up.

With a last glance back at the waves, she turned down the beach and headed for camp.

She couldn’t wait to tell the others what had happened.

* * *

  
**Notes on this universe:**

-Gaston, Eric, and Ariel don’t believe Belle when she tells them about 'the Creature’, but Dr. Zoso and Killian are VERY interested…but possibly not in the way she’d hoped. Mulan says nothing, but she never leaves the boat without a harpoon after Belle tells her what happened.

-Once upon a time, in the unknown-life he led before his memories, the Creature knew Dr. Zoso.

-Belle is far, far too curious for her own good and the Creature is more than willing to show her to his nest…and all the secrets he doesn’t realize are contained inside.


	2. Prompt 1

**_From the Shadows_**  
**  
This Prompt Fill:** Fascinated by the humans invading his island, and especially the one he saved, the Creature takes to following them around and can’t help but wonder what it means when he sees two of them share a kiss.

**Prompt:** @thestraggletag: Creature from the Black Lagoon: Rumpel spots one of the couples kissing and wonders about kissing Belle. **Prompt:** @Anonymous: I really liked the eerie sight story. If you do another chapter of that I would be grateful.

* * *

The Creature was, if anything, even more preoccupied with watching the humans after his encounter with the woman in blue. He’d saved her mostly on impulse and a primal instinct that told him letting her die would be wrong, but the unfamiliar feelings that stirred when he held her and touched her, even simply feeding her oxygen, had startled him…and then when she smiled at him, he’d felt his heart stutter in his chest. For some reason, he’d expected her face to twist in revulsion and for her to scream in fear for her companions. Instead, she’d been kind and treated him like he was one of her species.

Since being in contact with her, hearing her speak and realizing not only could he understand, but also that her words brought to mind a cascade of unfamiliar images and knowledge that he had not known was hidden in his memories, she had not left his mind. The changes should have made him uneasy, convinced him to avoid her and her companions at all costs. Instead, he was curious.

It was that curiosity that led him to shadow the humans as they made their way around the island. Some days they used their boat to follow the shoreline and other days they hiked through the dense jungle, making slow headway and often getting lost. The Creature preferred it when they used the boat; he could follow underwater, silent and unseen, and watch with thirsty eyes for the barest glimpse of the woman in blue. On land, he was not nearly as agile or stealthy and the old injury to his ankle meant he wasn’t very fast; every time he left the water was a risk to his safety - at the hands of the humans or the teeth of a crocodile he’d be able to defeat hands down in the water.

However, it was a risk he was willing to take.

He also took to haunting their camp during the night, crouching in the shadows and watching with glittering eyes as they talked and laughed around their campfire before retreating into tents and rough shelters to sleep. He quickly became familiar with the entire group even though his focus was held by the woman in blue.

The dark-eyed woman was the quietest of the lot, often simply sitting alone and fiddling with the metal sticks and blades that the Creature knew from experience would hurt badly if he came in contact with them. The two dark-haired, dark-eyed men were loudest and spent most of their time at the campfire making noise with each other and drinking spirits that smelled so strongly that his nose crinkled in disgust even from the shadows. The older man was quiet and unobtrusive, apparently harmless …but there was something about him that bothered the Creature. Looking at the man made something stir in his gut, something that made him want to cringe and whimper and hide his face. It had been a long time since he’d felt such visceral fear, which was made far worse by his confusion over the source. He decided to avoid the older man at all costs.

The final two in the group other than the woman in blue were mates: a bright-haired woman and a man with black hair and blue eyes. They stayed together almost all of the time, nearly ignoring the rest of the group with a single-minded focus that the Creature could only liken to his own focus on the woman in blue.

He watched them with curiosity, observing as they laughed and interacted, delighting in each other’s touch and presence. He’d never had that, never known anyone of his kind and never felt a kind touch. It wasn’t until he saw them and their happiness that he realized he might be missing something and felt a pang of jealousy. He found his eyes wandering back to the woman in blue time and again where she read books by the light of the fire, or spoke to one of the drinking men (usually with annoyance), or when she smiled with the other two women.

She was beautiful when she smiled.

Actually, she was _always_ beautiful.

Two nights after he saved the woman in blue, he observed two of her companions – the bright-haired woman and her mate – touch their lips together. It was just a quick peck, but it made him cock his head in confusion and furrow his scaly brow. It looked like what he’d done to save the woman in blue in the water, when he’d drawn water through his gills and fed her the resulting oxygen to breathe. But why would they need to exchange oxygen? Neither of them had gills, and they weren’t in the water.

They did it again as he watched, this time long and lingering, and he saw how their body language changed. When they pressed their lips together, they wrapped their arms around each other and pulled closer, as if they never wanted to let go. And when they pulled away for air, they smiled and stared at each other with so much emotion for each other, emotion that the Creature had never experienced and had no name for, that a pang of heartsick longing pierced his heart.

They weren’t sharing oxygen. This was something else entirely, something he suddenly realized he wanted.

His eyes turned towards the woman in blue where she sat against the side of a log on the closest side of the fire, and he couldn’t stop himself from wondering. What would it be like, if he did that with her? Would she smile at him, like the two humans had smiled at each other? Would it be as pleasant as it looked? He’d been in contact with her when they shared oxygen and hadn’t thought anything of it, but now he couldn’t help looking back and remembering how soft and pliant she’d been in his arms, how her lips had moved against his own, how they’d seemed to fit together in ways he’d never expected….

Warmth crept through his limbs, suffusing his face and radiating out from his chest and lower belly and he found himself fidgeting restlessly, uncertain and embarrassed by the reaction but unwilling to pull himself away from the memory.

He slunk further back into the trees, still watching his favorite human and her friends but completely invisible to their sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished all of the prompts for my Monster Month stories! :)
> 
> I decided to wait to post until I was done because I wanted the installments for each story posted in chronological order. As a result, I've got well over a dozen prompts ready for y'all in all seven (eight?) verses. I'll be posting one a day until I'm out!
> 
> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think. ;)


	3. Prompt 2

_**From the Light** _

**This Prompt Fill:** In the days after her Rescue, Belle thinks back on her encounter with the Creature.

**Prompt** : @white-throated-packrat: Black Lagoon prompt – Belle remember that the Creature was wearing shorts, and comes to some conclusions based on that.

* * *

 Belle sat alone on one side of the crackling bonfire, ignoring most of her companions where they caroused on the other side. She had a book open in her lap and to any casual observer, it would have looked like she was reading. That was what her companions believed and they knew from experience that she would not be happy to be disturbed.

However, Belle’s eyes were distant and stared at the page without seeing it. The same page had been open for a good ten minutes and she had not read a word of it. There was something far more interesting on her min

The Creature that had saved her life.

Her friends’ reactions to her story had not been what she expected. Most of them thought she was crazy and had taken to avoiding her, or listening with the vague expression that meant they were humoring her. Killian and Zoso were the only two that seemed to take her seriously and they gave her the creeps. However, it was Gaston that finally got her to stop talking about the Creature completely – the day after her ordeal, he’d laughed her comments off and exclaimed how he’d enjoy hunting such a monster if it was real. Could she imagine the fame? The possible reward? It would make a fine addition to his trophy room!

The very idea made her feel sick. She’d seen Gaston’s trophy room; all of the poor taxidermy animals and decorative pelts he’d hunted and bought on his travels gave her the creeps. Worse, she could envision Gaston doing exactly that with her Creature. The day after he made the comment, Belle woke up from a nightmare shaking and sweating, unable to shake the mental image of her creature standing immobile on one of Gaston’s trophy pedestals, face frozen permanently in a posed snarl and dead, glass eyes staring at her, begging to know why she’d betrayed him…

Logically, she knew that wouldn’t happen. Gaston didn’t believe her and the Creature was obviously capable of taking care of himself. Even on the unlikely chance Gaston found out he was real, he’d probably try to capture rather than kill the Creature – his prey would be more valuable that way. But she could not stop the fear that clenched in her heart.

After she stopped talking about it and no one – not even Zoso – brought it up again, the fear eased a bit and she was able to think back on the encounter with curiosity and fascination. As their company wound their way through the forest, she thought about the Creature’s large eyes – golden, round, and dark with inhuman secrets. As they set up camp, she thought about his grip around her chest and the way he’d held her firmly but gently as he’d saved her life. And as she rested at the campfire at night with a book for company, she thought about the way his lips had sealed over hers, the soft pressure and life-giving air he gave her.

Considering how close their encounter had actually been and how little else she had to focus on in the jungle (she was not in any way interested in Gaston’s mission), perhaps it was understandable that her thoughts strayed into less innocent territory after a few days.

The Creature had been naked save for a pair of ragged shorts and what she’d seen and felt had been…well, not human, but roughly human-shaped. A head, two arms, two legs, two eyes, a nose, a mouth…It was what she hadn’t seen that occupied her mind most of all. Did the presence of pants mean he was anatomically similar to humans in other ways? They’d been pressed almost indecently close together in the water, but the situation had been so tense and the intent so innocent that she hadn’t taken the opportunity to notice at the time.

The thought made Belle blush, but she wasn’t embarrassed enough to stop. He’d been gentle but firm when he held her and touched their lips together, and so bizarrely sweet when he’d helped her get out of the water. He was the perfect size for her as well, not nearly as overwhelmingly tall as most men with well-defined muscles and long hair that was just begging to be tugged and ruffled.

Oh, God, was she really fantasizing about him? He wasn’t even human! He might be some sort of beast or alien or…or…she didn’t know, but he wasn’t human. He had scales and claws and…and…and he been so sweet and gentle and he’d felt right.

And really, what harm did it do to think about it? She’d probably never even see him again.

Her fantasies were just simple, innocent fiction.  It wasn’t like she’d ever get the chance to enact them in real life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> (Responses might be a bit slow for the next few days. Please bear with me; I was in a car accident yesterday and dealing with the fallout has been draining. (Thankfully, there were no injuries.))


	4. Prompt 3

**_In the Dawn_ **

**This Prompt Fill:** After pining separately, Belle and the Creature finally come together to get to know each other a little better **.**

**Prompt:** @Anonymous: In An Eerie Sight verse, I would love to see Belle getting to know her Creature savior and them becoming friends and Belle falling in love.

* * *

Belle had not expected to see the Creature again. The first time was probably a very lucky fluke and now that he knew her company was there, of course he would stay away from them. Especially with all of the noise Gaston was making – he seemed to take particular joy in hacking his way through the jungle and recounting stories of his past travels and hunts at the top of his voice. She thought about her rescuer all the time, fantasized even - he was by far the most interesting thing on the island - but that wasn’t serious. Therefore, she was utterly shocked to glance over the side of the boat one day and find him poking his head out of the water right below her.

They both froze in surprise when their eyes locked until a raucous shout from Killian on the other side of the boat broke the moment and the Creature vanished beneath the waves. The entire encounter lasted less than thirty seconds and once he was gone there was no trace that it had happened. In disbelief, Belle had to wonder if she’d really seen him at all.

However, after that day Belle could barely go anywhere without tripping over him. He kept pace with the boat in the water, lurked by the docks at night, and even followed her through the island via the lagoons. It was nerve-wracking – not because she was worried he would hurt her, but because she worried her friends would hurt _him_.

Any worries she might have had about his fangs and claws vanished quickly. He was curiously sweet in his own way, leaving her pretty flowers and shiny polished stones where he thought she would find them. Once, she found an expertly crafted bracelet woven from grass and hand-carved wooden beads. But he was also shy; despite the closeness of their first encounter, he seemed easily spooked and reluctant to allow her too close to him. He followed her like an abandoned puppy if she was walking away but vanished into the water or shadows if she tried to approach. All of his gifts were left for her to find rather than given to her in person.

Despite Belle’s worries, the Creature quickly became the highlight of her time on the island. Within a week, she felt closer to him than she’d ever felt to her friends and she was leaving trinkets for him to find in return for his gifts; shiny pieces of metal, aromatic flowers, brightly colored pieces of …well, of anything she could dig up. His excitement every time he received even the smallest token warmed her heart. She could spend hours watching him twist agilely through the waves, allowing the light to hit the trinkets from all angles, or resting his chin on folded arms on the dock to watch her with his huge, curious reptilian eyes.

In fact, that’s’ what she started to do – to Gaston’s irritation (he was trying to impress her with his ridiculous bravado), Belle started excusing herself form their exploration of the island more and more often. She claimed the heat made her feel faint and she preferred to read than to hike, but in reality she wanted to spend time alone with the Creature. He was always glad for her company. 

He never really let her approach him, but over time, _he_ started inching closer to _her_. A step here, a stroke there, a few feet on land…it was slow but eventually they got to the point where they could sit on the end of the dock next to each other, feet dabbling in the water eddying beneath them. By that point, Belle had long since stopped seeing his appearance as monstrous or alarming…he was simply unique and interesting.

There was only one thing that bothered her; he could not speak. Oh, he seemed to understand well enough. He could nod and shake his head when prompted and followed the basics of what she said to him but anything more obscure – anything in reference to life off the island – merely received a blank stare in response. He needed every word explained in order to get the context.

That provoked Belle’s curiosity more than anything else; how could anyone know English but not know anything about human life? For that matter, how could he understand English in the first place? Her curiosity went unsatisfied because, despite her best efforts, he remained mute. She had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with his gills, though she had no way of knowing for sure.

The Creature could not tell her his name. He tried – low growls, coughs, hisses, and strangled snarls, all barely more than whispers, were all that he could manage. Before long the gills on his neck would start fluttering in distress at his failure and he’d lose the ability to make sound completely, emphasizing the barrier to communication between them and often causing him to flee in shame or embarrassment.

It wasn’t that his muteness changed Belle’s opinion at all, she just really wished she could call him something other than ‘The Creature’. Giving him a nickname seemed undignified, as if he was a pet rather than a person.

Instead, she decided to teach him how to read and write.

The Creature was cooperative and sat with her for hours, watching her write out letters on scraps of paper and, when she ran out, etch them in the dirt with a stick. He was a clever student and a fast learner, grasping the basic concept almost immediately; each letter connected to a sound, letters strung together to make words, etc. The only thing he really lacked was vocabulary and context and the only way Belle knew to fix that was to read to him from her books and explain what the words meant as they went.

That was the favorite part of both of their days – Belle leaning back against a tree and reading her favorite tales out loud while the Creature crouched or lay next to her, watching her with half-lidded, drowsy eyes as she lost herself in the story. He loved her passion and privately found it amusing that she so often seemed to forget he was there entirely when she got distracted by the story. It didn’t do much for his understanding of humans or vocabulary, but it brought them closer together.

Unfortunately, it also lowered their guard and, one day, Gaston’s hunting group came home early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think. :)


	5. Prompt 4

_**In the Darkness** _

******This Prompt Fill:** Following Rumple’s discovery by the rest of the humans, the situation takes a dark and dangerous turn. When Gaston and Killian react badly to the his presence, Belle must rise to the occasion and become his savior.

**Prompt** : @Anonymous: Belle saves Creature!Rumple (it’s her turn, after all :) )

* * *

_“Belle! I have returned to - what the hell is **that**?!”_

_“Gaston, **stop**!”_

_“Is that the thing that attacked you?!”_

_“Wha-No! He didn’t attack me, he **saved** me! Don’t touch him!”_

_“Stay away from that thing, Belle! I’ll protect you!”_

_“Gaston, I don’t need-! **Stop**!”_

_“You’re obviously hysterical-.”_

_“ **Leave him alone**!”_

_“I’ll deal with this… **monster** so you don’t have to look at it anymore. Stop struggling! I’m protecting you! Killian, take her to the camp. This thing has obviously addled her mind. I’ve never seen anything like it - who knows what it’s done to her?  
_

_“Let him **go!** Gaston-!”_

_“Take her away.”  
_

* * *

Late at night, Belle crept along the makeshift wooden pier, thanking her lucky stars that it was relatively sturdy and not creaky, as well as the fact that the moon was high and bright in the sky. It was enough to light her way without betraying her presence with a flashlight or candle.

A burst of laughter off to her left made her freeze. Gaston’s voice triggered a surge of righteous anger and disgust. Doctor Zoso and Killian chimed in quickly, their voices fully recognizable even though Belle was too far away to hear their words. The three of them were drinking and carousing in celebration. Gaston had just hunted and captured a _rare beast_ , after all.

Belle gritted her teeth and forced down her negative feelings as she crept onward towards the reason for their party. Their ill-gotten gains.

At the very end of the path, the familiar shape of Eric’s boat bobbed in the water, lit only by the moonlight and a dim glow from the door of the main cabin. However, there was something notably unfamiliar about it now - the heavy metal net hanging suspended from the pulley normally used to haul fish, held high above the water and a few feet above the boat by the winch mounted on the deck. It was a cruel looking thing made from interlocking steel links, obviously meant for securing cargo, not for use on anything alive.

Contained within the net, held suspended and helpless, the diminutive form of Belle’s savior thrashed and struggled.

The confining metal forced him to curl in a ball but he still struck out at it with claws and fangs, yanking and tearing uselessly at the material around him. The bloody gash on his side - courtesy of Gaston’s bush-whacking machete - still bled sluggishly, a dark stain dripping on the deck that looked like spilled ink in the moonlight. His struggles had waned some in the hours since Belle had been forced from his side, probably from pure exhaustion, but desperation drove him to continue anyway.

Belle felt her heart go out to the poor creature. She wanted nothing more than to rip the net away and give him a hug, whisking him away from those who meant him harm.

However, she knew that in order for her rescue attempt to be successful, she had to be smart about it. Even though she felt for her Creature, she paused in the deep shadows right before climbing onto the boat, listening carefully. The party in the main camp was still distantly audible so Belle knew she didn’t have to worry about Gaston, Zoso, or Killian, and she was pretty sure Ariel and Eric were on the other side of the island trying to avoid the tension in the main camp. Belle had seen them off and knew Ariel at least had no intention of returning until morning and Eric would stay with her. Mulan was the only one whose location Belle did not know - she was not at the party and she hadn’t followed Ariel and Eric, but she also had not been seen all evening. Belle eyed the dim light in the cabin uneasily.

A piteous whine broke through her fear and her gaze snapped back to the Creature. He had noticed her, even hiding in the deep shadows, and his large, strange eyes were fixed upon her through the net. His struggles had paused, both clawed hands now wrapped in the metal fibers framing his face, holding onto them like prison bars.

Any caution Belle had been trying to entertain fled instantly.

“Oh, you poor thing!” She rushed to him, reaching her fingers through the mesh to wrap her hand over his as best she could. The only reason she could reach him, suspended as he was, was because he was curled in a ball at the bottom of the net. His hand met hers, clasping through the barrier and he let out a quiet, mournful sound. There was no hope in his eyes, and Belle could tell that he did not think he could escape. She wondered blackly what he thought the men were going to do with him, but decided it did not matter. He wasn’t going to be here long enough for it to be a problem.

She squeezed his scaly, webbed hand reassuringly and tried to smile at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m here to help you.” She whispered. “Just…keep quiet, okay? I’m going to find a way to get you down.”

He let out an unhappy sound when she slipped away from the net but did not resume struggling. His large eyes followed Belle in even the darkest shadows as she searched for a way to get him down. There was some fishing equipment stored in lockers on the deck, but none of it was capable of cutting through the metal of the net.

Finally, Belle ventured closer to the main cabin when desperation overcame her fear of discovery and investigated the winch that was holding the net aloft. It was normally operated by two people and required a key to use…but in an incredible stroke of luck, it looked like Gaston had left the key in place.

Her breath whooshed out in a gasp of relief and she smiled back at the Creature who cocked his head in return but did not otherwise move.

It was dangerous, but she hoped that, if she was careful, she’d be able to handle the winch and net alone. She’d have to maintain the tension and keep her fingers well clear of the machinery (which was powerful enough to cut them off). During the voyage to the island, she’d seen Eric and Killian use it many times to catch fish and she was confident she could recreate the process.

Moving slowly and carefully, Belle turned the key and released the lock, wincing when the metal squeaked and clattered. When she actually started turning the lever to lower the net, the squeaking increased. Every time the lever turned, it protested loudly but there was nothing Belle could do about it other than pray nobody heard her.

The Creature watched her with wide eyes, painful hope entering his expression once he saw what she was trying to do.  At first, he tried to shift into position to see her better but that caused the net to bounce and the winch to make a loud sound in protest, forcing Belle to stop. Thankfully, it was easy to convince him that he needed to be silent and still in order for her to finish her task and there were no other interruptions.

Slowly, the net lowered from its dangling position to rest on the deck of the fishing boat. The tension relaxed as soon as the Creature’s weight was no longer suspended and the lines being used to hold it closed slipped from their moors, letting the net go with a low * _thump_ *.

Without a second thought for the winch, Belle let go and hurried to the Creature where he huddled on hands and knees on the deck, panting and grimacing. One of his arms was wrapped around his side against his bloody injury. However, when she approached, the eyes that met hers were clear and grateful.

“Are you okay?” Belle rushed forward, dropping to her knees next to him and throwing her arms around him. “Oh, I’m so sorry I told them about you! I had no idea they could be so cruel!”

The Creature jumped in surprised when she touched him and immediately tensed up, but just when Belle was beginning to feel awkward and wonder if she was not welcome, his arms hesitantly wrapped around her and clutched her close.

They sat like that for a long moment, hugging each other, until a loud yell from the island interrupted them.

“Hey, Jones! Where’s Belle?”

Gaston had found her missing.

“Oh, no…” Belle whispered, breaking away and looking back towards the fire. She was too far away to see the men, but she knew Killian would be responding and any minute now they would finish looking through the camp and turn towards the boat. They would find their prize free and Belle having released him.

The Creature snarled in the direction of Gaston’s voice, but the look he turned on her was jubilant. A scaled, webbed hand wrapped around her forearm and he tugged her lightly towards the railing of the boat. When he slid into the quiet water, Belle balked and pulled back but a beseeching look from him accompanied by the sound of heavy boots striding closer made up her mind.

She slipped into the water after the Creature and, at his prompting, wrapped her arms around his chest from behind, clinging close to his back as he swam away from Eric’s ship at top speed. Neither of them looked back when Gaston’s bellow of fury sounded behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think. :)


	6. Prompt 5

_**In the Twilight** _

**This Prompt Fill:**   Belle unexpectedly learns a little bit about Rumple’s past when he takes her to his home in the immediate aftermath of their escape.

**Prompt** : @thestraggletag Okay, okay, Creature of the black lagoon prompt: They meet for the second time and he takes her to his home

* * *

The yells of Gaston and his cronies faded away to faint, distorted sounds as soon as Belle and the Creature entered the water. She buried her face in his bare back and kept a death grip around his neck, distantly noting that his scales were surprisingly smooth and warm there. He could not pause to comfort her and noise did not carry far in the water, but she felt his heart beating beneath her hands and a low rumble vibrated in his chest that she took to be reassurance.

They dove deeper than the fishing boat, far below where flashlights strobed over the surface of the water and a few feet below where the light could cut weakly into the inky depths. The Creature did not bother going any deeper – he cut through the cool water like an arrow, swimming with strong strokes that ate up the distance just like he had the last time Belle swam with him. All signs of human disturbance died away behind them, leaving them in eerie blackness that Belle’s eyes could not penetrate. The only thing that kept her from being scared was the presence of her companion and her trust that he knew what he was doing.

Just as she began to worry about needing air, the Creature angled upwards and they broke the surface. Belle’s noisy gasp was loud in the tropical night. She took a long moment to suck in air then looked around at their surroundings.

In the dark, the forest and water were unfamiliar and strange. The only light came from the nearly full moon overhead and the stars, bright and strong this far from civilization. Their cold light illuminated huge dark trees that stretched up from the banks and spread their leaves and branches overhead, creating a lattice effect that reminded her of a spider’s web. Every now and then the scant light picked up the shine of animal eyes on the banks and in the water, glittering points that stared at the human without fear. The water around them was black as ink in the night and might as well have been bottomless.

Belle shivered as a breeze blew up from the bay, causing the leaves in the trees to rustle and the water to ripple. Her arms tightened and the Creature looked over his shoulder at her quizzically. He showed no sign of noticing the change in temperature.

“Let’s g-go.” She urged, trying her best to be curious rather than fearful of the nighttime forest. The Creature’s searching glance went unmet and after a moment he nodded and continued on his way. To her surprise, he did not dive; he arrowed through the surface of the water this time, allowing her to keep her head in the air and breathe while he steered them to their destination.

The forest was painted in stark shadows and cold moonlight, so dissimilar to what she was used to that she quickly lost track of where they were. It was only when the trees retreated and the moonlight shone down unimpeded on a broad body of water that she realized they were in one of the shallow lagoons attached to the bay. Her companion must have taken the long way around for some reason because she could see the open water of the ocean in the distance…or perhaps they’d swum all the way through the island and this lagoon was attached to a different bay on the other side.

Belle would have liked to take a moment to appreciate the view now that the shoreline was not hemming them in; the clear sky revealed by the lagoon’s break in the trees allowed the moon and stars to paint this part of the forest white and silver, colors that wavered and shifted as reflections from the water danced across the trees. It was an oddly alien but still beautiful effect.

However, her companion did not seem to notice. He only slowed at the entrance to the lagoon, looking around and then ducking momentarily beneath the water to check for danger before swimming onward…away from the distant bay and towards a densely forested shoreline. As they got closer, Belle realized the forest had actually grown around several massive fallen trees and choking debris – creeping vines, undergrowth, weeds, and bushes with tough leaves - sealed off anything that the debris had left open, blocking off that part of the shore completely.

Before Belle could begin to doubt the Creature, he dove, barely giving her time to take a quick breath before they were headed for the shallow bottom of the lagoon. To her amazement, the moonlight penetrated all the way down…and illuminated a dark crevasse between the loose soil of the bottom and a dead tree of the shoreline.

The Creature dove for the crevasse, slipping through with ease, causing Belle to squeak in panic and air to escape as a stream of bubbles behind her, but there was no submerged cave or depression in the shoreline behind the dead tree trunk.

In fact, it wasn’t a shoreline at all.

There was water on the other side of the crevasse, revealing that the debris had been a barrier separating a small portion of the lagoon from the main area – a natural pond. Before Belle could marvel at how completely it had been concealed, the Creature was swimming upwards and their heads broke the water.

The sight that met her eyes was not what she’d been expecting. In fact, of all the unexpected things she’d experienced today, this was the only one that took her breath away.

There were boats in the pond.

Half a dozen of them at least sat in varying states of disrepair and decay. They were all fairly small, from rowboats up to fishing boats, and every single one listed at an odd angle. It was only as the Creature swam through their midst, winding between them with a smooth agility that spoke of long practice, that Belle realized just how old they actually were – rust and rot had eroded away much of their workings and while she was no expert on how long it took, they looked like a stiff breeze might knock them apart completely.

The boats cast deep shadows on the water which the Creature swam through without pausing and Belle could not shake the feeling that they were walking through a graveyard. She wasn’t sure if her shiver was from the cool night air or the situation. What was this? As far as her group had known, this island was undiscovered. Why would someone abandon so many boats here? What had happened to the people that did it?

…Why had the Creature brought her here?

It only took a minute or so to swim from the entrance across the pond to the Creature’s destination and Belle spent the whole time twisting her head this way and that to see the crumbling structures. So much so that she almost didn’t catch sight of where they going – a small, squat building on the far side of the water that blended in with the trees around it.

Compared to the shock of finding the boats, the building was almost disappointing. There was nothing impressive about it – it was short, boxy, and unremarkable. The initial shock at signs of human presence was wearing off by the time Belle saw it. Unlike the boats, the building seemed mostly intact; the windows and doors were secured with rusty bars and padlocks but that was the only sign of wear and tear.

The Creature directed them towards a small side-building that bridged the land and the water, an indoor parking space for boats with a wooden walkway extending from the far wall over the water supported by thick wooden logs sunk into the lake. There was enough space to secure two small vessels but there was only one small rowboat currently present, half submerged against the far wall. It was difficult to see; most of the moon and starlight was blocked by the building, leaving the inside in blackness.

Without hesitating, Belle’s companion headed for the wooden walkway and Belle found herself gently but firmly shrugged off once they reached it, forced to grip weathered wood rather than warm scales. Without glancing back, the Creature pulled himself upwards and vanished into the shadows.

“What are you-!” Her sudden alarm made her voice shrill and her hands tightened until splinters bit into her palms, but the panic was for naught. There was a heavy, wet thump off to her left then the faint stuttering tmp-tmp-tmp of his limping footsteps on hollow wood. He emerged from the gloom in front of her standing on the wooden walkway and extended his hand to help her out of the water. He seemed to glitter slightly in the faint light where it caught on his scales and his eyes were deep dark pools drawing her in.

Belle gladly took his hand and did not release it once she was standing. He shuffled his feet and fluttered his gills (habits she’d come to realize meant uncertainty or embarrassment) but didn’t drop her hand. In fact, he clutched it tighter as he drew her away from the water.

They snuck like thieves through the shadows, the eerie stillness of the building making goosebumps rise on Belle’s arms. She found herself stepping softly, holding her breath, and listening intently for signs of life.

There were none. Dead silence surrounded them and once they passed out of the boathouse, the moonlight vanished entirely and Belle was left blind with only her companion for guidance.

He led her a few yards down a closed hallway, made two sharp turns and then a low * _creeeeeak*_ warned Belle that a door was opening.

To her surprise, there was light in the space beyond. Her companion stopped abruptly in the doorway and ushered her inside. Their hands separated when he pulled back, twisting them nervously as he watched her, and Belle moved forwards alone.

Three small rectangular windows placed high on the outer wall allowed soft moonlight to shine inside, illuminating the strange room. There was water damage everywhere – it warped the wood of the floor and stretched a good four feet up the walls on every side.

The light illuminated a room that looked like it had once been an office; there was a heavy empty ookcase against one wall next to a broken desk that was missing two legs and the metal frame of a chair lying on its side. The desk and chair were both backwards, pushed up against the bookcase for some reason. She turned her attention to the other side of the room and cocked her head, trying to make sense of what she saw.

There was a haphazard heap of all sorts of scraps littering the other side of the room. Ancient blankets, pillows, cushions, towels, and curtains seemed to take up most of it, all of them so old and dusty that they were uniformly grey. She couldn’t even tell what some of the old cloth was from because it was so old. The pile was surrounded by bundles of wooden sticks and branches woven together with vines and greenery to hold the scraps together and give the heap some structure. When she drew closer to peer curiously, she realized there was greenery woven throughout the pile, likely to make it soft.

Realization dawned quickly – this was a nest.

“Is this your home?” She turned to look at her companion who quirked his mouth nervously and nodded. Words still escaped him, but he understood her and she understood him enough to realize just how much trust he was showing her by bringing her here. Her eyes softened. “Thank you for trusting me.”

His return smile was bashful, and interrupted by a pained grimace. The wound Gaston had inflicted on his side was still oozing, leaving a dark streak of blood dripping down his stomach and shorts now that they were out of the water. He pressed a scaly hand over it, stemming the blood flow as much as possible, but not enough to hide it completely from Belle’s view.

“You’re hurt!” She batted his hand aside so she could examine the injury, ignoring his faint grumble and recoil. The cut was small but deep, though it didn’t look like the blade had penetrated any internal organs. Her Creature had seemed fine while swimming and his range of movement looked okay. What was most concerning was the possibility of infection; the cut was still bleeding and hadn’t been disinfected in the many hours since he’d gotten it, during which it had been exposed to who knows what in the water.

Belle frowned. “Is there anything I can clean this with? Bandages, medicine…?” it seemed unlikely that he’d understand such an obscure concept, but to her surprise, the Creature barely hesitated before nodding and leading her down the hallway away from his nest.

Their destination could not have been more different than the first one he showed her.

This one was a broken down laboratory. Shattered glass and scraps of damaged paper littered the floor, accompanied by a rusty overturned gurney fitted with thick metal restraints and ancient broken electronics. There were rusty metal cabinets lining two of the walls, their doors hanging askew, some from rust and age but others looked like they’d been forced open. There was also a huge tank on the far wall– the sort you would find a huge snake or lizard living in at the zoo – which was probably the source of the broken glass because there was a huge jagged hole in the front. There were scratches over almost all the surfaces, including the inside of the tank.

The Creature did not notice when Belle stopped and gaped at the mess. Nor did he notice the broken glass on his tough scaled feet as he made his way over to one of the cabinets that had been forced open, pulling out an old first aid kit and turning to Belle. There was no sign of alarm or surprise for the state of the room in his expression.

However, in the light from the windows, Belle could see the long fingers of one hand where it held the kit, and in a moment of clarity she looked from him back to the tank, mentally comparing the scratches in the glass to the sharp black claws on his hands…and coming to a grim conclusion.

There had been humans here, alright, and the backstory behind her companion was probably a lot darker than she’d expected.

However, so long as he did not know how to speak, she wasn’t sure how to answer the many questions that this place had formed in her mind. Instead, she took the first aid kit from her Creature and set about patching him up. At the moment, there were more important things to tend to than her curiosity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think. :)


	7. Prompt 6

_**Lost and Broken** _

**This Prompt Fill:** Belle discovers some secrets that might have been best left forgotten.

 **Prompt** : @Anonymous: Creature from the Black Lagoon!Rumple remembers his old life. **Prompt:** @Anonymous: Black Lagoon Rumple--I have to know, was he originally a human who was experimented on, was he a chimera created in a lab, or are/were there other swamp people? If he was human, what happened? If he was lab created, were there other experiments? What happened to them? Did/does Rumple have family who miss him, whether other lab-grown creatures, a human family, or a creature family? (Also is Mulan the only other human in the expedition sympathetic to Belle and/or Rumple?)

* * *

The Creature was patient and compliant as Belle bandaged his side, standing still without so much as a whimper or flinch and allowing her to do as she wished with dusty gauze and half-full bottle of something that smelled sharply of alcohol. It was difficult to see with only the moonlight to guide her, although it was easier here than in the other room since all of the windows were long-broken in this one. There weren’t even any shattered shards attached to the frames anymore. They were simply empty.

Belle couldn’t help but notice that the skin beneath her hands was green and covered in scales, nothing like anything she’d ever felt before; rough on his back but transitioning to snake-like smoothness on her patient’s stomach. The only times she’d touched him for more than a few moments were last night and when he’d saved her life. She hadn’t had any time to register the difference in his skin either time. It wasn't so much unsettling as it was fascinating - her hands itched to explore further, to see what other textures and colors she could find, but her concern kept her on track tending to the Creature’s injury.

Once she was done, he sighed in relief and beckoned her away from the room full of broken debris, back down the hallway to the dim room that contained his nest. It was only when he stepped into the structure, knelt down, and started shifting the bits of vegetation and cloth around that she realized what he intended. It was late, it had been a long day, and as that fact finally sunk in, fatigue hit her hard.

The Creature was free. They were both safe. And Belle had no idea what she was going to do about her friends. Or _‘friends’._ She wasn’t so sure she wanted to call them that anymore, thanks to their treatment of her new companion.

Belle was only slightly surprised when, once satisfied, he settled carefully onto his back, favoring his healing side. She was more surprised when he extended a beckoning hand towards her and cocked his head, obviously inviting her to join him.

Briefly, she wavered. If he’d been Gaston, she would have instantly suspected ulterior motives...but all the Creature seemed to want was to sleep. In the dim light, he looked more like a monster than ever - his eerie eyes were wide and dark, reflecting little light and reminding her of dark pits, while his skin was mottled dark grey and green and the scanty light reflected off of his sharp claws and fangs.

….But Belle knew better. Despite the inhuman traits picked out by the moonlight, he’d proven to be caring and respectful. It only took a moment of hesitation before her resolve firmed and she let him usher her into his nest. It was surprisingly soft, having been worn down with age, but she could feel the hard, unforgiving floor beneath the padding.

Exhaustion took hold before she could dwell on the many and varied reasons that being there was a bad idea and likely to cause problems for both of them. The Creature and Belle fell asleep lying next to each other in his nest.

* * *

Belle woke up stiff and sore with the irritating grimy sensation of dirt ingrained into her skin. Her clothes were wrinkled and scratchy and she shifted uncomfortably, feeling every bump and bruise complain. When she tried to roll over to get more comfortable, she ran into something warm and breathing that jumped at the contact.

Her eyes snapped open and she found herself staring straight into the brown and gold eyes of the Creature who was looking at her with a distinct deer-in-headlights stare from mere inches away. She was so close that she could pick out the shimmers of hazel, amber, and pale gold in the inhuman iris ringing the dark pupil.

She had accidentally rolled over on top of him.

Before her embarrassment could completely take control, she dredged up a smile for him and a quiet. “Good morning.”

He squeaked.

With as much grace as she could muster, she rolled back over and clambered to her feet, giving him the space to do the same. When she was composed, she turned to look at him, hoping her embarrassment wouldn’t be too obvious, only to find that he was wringing his hands and refusing to meet her eyes, badly hiding his own embarrassment.

It was endearing and Belle smiled fondly at the sight.

The hard floor had left kinks in her back and neck and she stretched as she turned away, trying to work out the stiffness. A few circuits around the room was not enough time for the Creature to overcome his embarrassment and Belle quickly grew tired of watching him pick nervously at his nest, refusing to respond to any soft questions or even meet Belle’s eyes.

“I’m going to take a look around, alright?” She finally offered, thinking to give him time alone as well as satisfy her curiosity about the unnerving building that the Creature called home.

She received a slight jerky nod in response, though he still did not turn to look at her.

The rooms and hallways were bathed in sunlight that shone in through the dirty and broken windows and Belle found that it was easy to find her way around. It was a small building with only half a dozen rooms, all leading off of the main hallway; the office that the Creature had chosen for his nest, two similar offices full of broken furniture and little else, two storage rooms, and the big laboratory from the previous night. The first storage room was lined with shelves that had once been full of chemical supplies (for cleaning, Belle assumed) which had been knocked down at some point in the past so that now the shelves were empty and floor was littered with ominously colored bottles of liquid that had long since lost their labels to the ravages of flooding. The second storeroom had a broken rusted lock on it, and inside she found four old fashioned walkie-talkies that had the word ‘Security’ painted on them in faded red paint. There were makeshift stands and slots set up to hold other items…but they were empty. Whoever had cleaned out the offices had also cleaned out that supply room.

The final room – the lab - was at the end of the hallway, opposite the boat shed where Belle and the Creature had entered, and it dominated the facility. On its own, it probably took up half of the entire building. Belle found her attention drawn to it despite already having seen it and shortly found herself staring at the gurney, the shattered tank, and the rusted counters and cabinets. The sight was even more disturbing in the daylight – it reminded her of something out of a horror story or from the island of Doctor Moreau.

Her curiosity quickly overcame her caution and she ventured inside, picking her way through the broken glass on the floor. Unlike the rest of the rooms, this one had not been cleaned out – it had been _destroyed._ Shredded, faded papers clumped around the room, unreadable and all but disintegrated with age, metal and plastic equipment lay haphazardly around the floor or shoved into cabinets at odd angles, every single pieces twisted, snapped, or shredded to the point where they were unrecognizable from their original functions. Belle found an entire drawer full of shattered glass and broken syringe tips, another full of knives and scalpel handles (the blades had been ripped off), and another full of plastic bags that had weathered the years better than anything else.

It was only on Belle’s third circuit of the lab that she made her most interesting discovery: wedged behind the cabinet furthest from the windows and door, in the shadows of the broken reptile tank and hidden from the sun, was a black notebook that had escaped the weather and the destruction. Belle managed to slip her fingers into its protected hiding place and ease it out into the light, turning it so that she could read the name on the cover.

Doctor Simon Zoso.

Belle froze and her eyes widened. Dr. Zoso. The strange man who had insisted on coming along on Gaston’s foolhardy hunting trip, who had in fact given them the location of this island, claiming that Gaston could achieve fame by hunting the island’s never-before-seen animal species. But he’d never shown any interest in Gaston’s kills once they were there, instead insisting that there was more to be found deeper in the forest. He’d been _ecstatic_ when Gaston caught the Creature yesterday.

For more reasons than the novelty, it seemed.

Without any reservations, and bursting with curiosity, Belle turned the first page and began to read.

* * *

The Creature paused in tending to his bed when he heard Belle’s voice, tilting his head and turning it slightly so he could hear her better. He liked her voice. In fact, he could easily say that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. But who was she talking to?

He pushed himself fully upright with a wince, waiting until his still-tender injury stopped throbbing before following the sound of the human’s voice down the hallway, towards the big room. He didn’t like the big room – it had things that could fix him, things he’d always known how to use, but he always felt like there was someone looking at him when he was in there. It made him uneasy. And when he left, he had to force himself not to run – as if there was something to escape from inside the empty room. Over the long time that he’d lived there, the instinct had dulled, but he still remembered what it had felt like back when the glass shards were still sharp on his feet and he hadn’t yet twisted the scary things until they didn’t look scary anymore.

What was Belle doing in there?

He paused in the doorway, cocking his head in confusion at the sight of her hunched over in the corner, reading out loud from a book he’d never seen before in the slow, measured way that she spoke when she wasn’t sure what something meant. The long words that tumbled from her mouth seemed to confuse her, no matter how hard she strained to understand them. However, with a start, the Creature realized that _he_ knew exactly what they meant _._

As Belle read the book out loud, engrossed by the writer’s account on a mystery specimen studied in the lab and ignorant to her companion’s presence at her back, the Creature found his unease growing with every word. Normally, he had trouble understanding Belle because he did not know about things she took to be common knowledge (though he was getting better under her patient tutelage), but this time he found he understood every single word. Even the ones that puzzled Belle, that she carefully enunciated to commit them to memory so she could look them up later, connected in his mind... the dark, shadowy part of his mind. The lost recesses of his memory, the time he knew he’d forgotten and did not particularly want to remember. Enough pain and anger filtered through the block to make him fear what was on the other side.

But as Dr. Simon Zoso’s dry commentary droned on with Belle as a vocal filter, the Creature could feel those shadows fading away – or, more accurately being driven away. The dull, lost emotions were becoming sharper and more personal while vague impressions of old memories were seeping through to influence how he saw his surroundings.

The dark room of glass and metal had always bothered him but never truly inspired fear in him, not since he’d woken up in its shattered confines with a horrible headache, cuts all over his body, and a mysteriously empty memory. He’d spent the next couple weeks curled up in the room that currently housed his nest, suspended in the welcoming embrace of gently shifting water which had filled the building almost to the ceiling. He’d been disappointed when it drained away and he’d had to venture out into the crocodile infested lagoons to submerge himself.

Now…the wall of shattered glass loomed, tall and intimidating, inspiring a surge of helpless anger and the impressions of dagger-like pain stabbing from the roots of his claws and cool, intact glass under the pads of his fingers and palms. The long-degraded and rusty cuffs attached to the central table shortened his breath in reflexive, baseless fear. Paranoia about what was contained in the rusty old cabinets lining the counter-walls haunted him – even though he knew from long years living down the hall that he’d twisted everything inside into non-scary shapes, the feeling remained that whatever was inside was _not_ medical supplies but instead associated with pain and helplessness.

As the images – memories, he realized with horror, they were _memories_ – became clearer, the Creature curled in on himself, making a quiet sound of distress that Belle did not notice through her single-minded focus. Her eyes were fixed on the pages of Zoso’s journal with the intensity she always showed when trying to puzzle out something she didn’t understand. For the past week, that had been the Creature and he’d preened under the attention and admired her determination.

Technically, he was still the subject of her interest, though maybe she didn’t realize it. There was no physical descriptions included in Zoso’s notes. Nor was there a name.

As Belle flipped quickly through the pages, skimming the oldest and least detailed notes to find the passages worth reading, the images came fast and hard to the Creature. Whatever barrier in his mind had been broken, the words she spoke now freely pulled from the shattered depths.

It was terrifying and unwelcome, but bearable – until she reached an account of a test that had happened on the gurney in the center of the room.

 _“The subject no longer willingly submits to our tests.”_ She read, mumbling the words rapidly, flush with the thrill of discovery. “ _We have been forced to use physical measures for restraint. Our budget does not allow for tranquilizers; however, Gorgon is certain he can handle it. There is no reason to make allowances for injury prevention – the subject has become remarkably durable to the point were significant pressure must be used to penetrate its skin with a scalpel.”_

Every word that fell from her lips, no matter how muffled, dislodged bits and pieces of the past that stabbed at the Creature’s mind like broken glass. Here was the feeling of metal biting into his wrists. There was the sight of pale human skin running red with blood as scales burst through from beneath. Here was blunt teeth and the rawness of throat that meant he’d screamed himself silent. There was the sight of a human man – his father? - accepting a large stack of green bills and walking away. The cool smoothness of glass under his palms. The biting pain of claws emerging from his fingertips. The sound of generators. The taste of blood. The bite of a needle. Bile in his throat. Burning, glowing liquid. A rubber tube in his mouth. His own voice. Screams becoming whispers becoming silence.

Belle’s attention was focused entirely on making out the densely written words, much of them medical jargon, and attempting to make sense of what they were talking about. As he listened, the Creature leaned backwards until he was huddled against the doorway as far away from the painful words as possible. His clawed hands rose in distress – but instead of reaching for his ears, he clamped them tightly over his gills.

The pressure was an unfamiliar pain but the effect of his panic had an unexpected consequence – the dichotomy of gill and lung breathing diminished, allowing his vocal cords to flex for the first time in decades.

The voice that emerged was rough and garbled, but fully understandable.

S-sTOoo-oP!” His harsh cry instantly startled Belle from her research and she whirled in shock, dropping Zoso’s journal.

The sight to him arrested her instantly. “Did you say-?”

“No moRe! StOP!” He keened and then turned and fled, eyes wild. They were fixed on the water inside of the boathouse at the other end of the hallway. _Escape._

By the time Belle came to her senses and surged after him, face twisting in realization, compassion, and worry, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! And please let me know what you think. :)
> 
> (And, to the Anon who submitted the second prompt, the rest of your questions will be answered on my tumblr.)


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